


Comparing Notes

by Authorexx



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Alcohol, But Not Exactly Fluff, F/F, Flirting, I have no idea what this even is, Kids say the darndest things, Sleepovers, sort of fluffy?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-16 09:27:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28828875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Authorexx/pseuds/Authorexx
Summary: Olivia Benson and Amanda Rollins have been colleagues and confidants for years, but unbeknownst to them, their relationship is beginning to change.
Relationships: Olivia Benson/Amanda Rollins
Comments: 31
Kudos: 47





	1. Chapter 1

The sequence of locks clicked in the same familiar rhythm and the door swung open. “Hi, Jesse.” Olivia couldn’t help but smile at the little girl in the doorway. “Is your mommy home?” She glanced further into the apartment, already knowing the answer.

“Hi miss Olivia! Mama’s with Billie. She’s havin’ breakfast.” Olivia followed her in, shutting and locking the apartment door behind them. “Mama, mama, miss Olivia’s here!” Jesse crowed, bounding into the living room.

Amanda nodded and waved a hello from the couch, holding the baby as she nursed. “Hey, Cap. You want a drink? I can get you something from the kitchen…” She moved to stand, but Olivia stopped her.

“No, no, don’t get up,” Olivia said, shaking her head. “It’s fine. I can get you something if you need.”

Amanda sheepishly smiled in thanks. “If there’s any, um… apple juice left?”

Jesse buzzed around Olivia as she walked to the kitchen, demanding her attention. “Miss Olivia, do you wanna see my new toy?!” She was always a ball of energy, and today was no exception, even going so far as to tug on Olivia’s sleeve in impatience.

“Sure, kiddo. What is it?” Olivia poured a couple glasses of juice and made her way back to living room to sit on the couch beside Amanda, placing the cups of juice on the coffee table. They watched as Jesse bounced into her mother’s bedroom.

“It’s mama’s, but I think it’s funny,” Jesse called over her shoulder, “It’s for sing-alongs!”

Amanda’s face grew confused as Jesse’s voice faded. “Sing-alongs? I… haven’t gotten her anything new lately.” She stood, following her daughter into the room, baby in her arms.

As they disappeared from sight, Olivia couldn’t help but hear the exchange through the open door.

Amanda gasped in what sounded like shock—“ _Jesse_ , that’s not a toy—“

Jesse’s tone grew insistent. “But I wanna show miss Olivia!”

“Miss Olivia doesn’t need to see that; it’s mama’s.” Amanda’s voice grew stern. “Now you can either put it back where you found it or give it to me.”

“No!” The little girl shouted, and Olivia heard tiny footsteps thundering out of the room. “Miss Olivia, it’s a karaoke microphone! Like Taylor Swift!” Jesse emerged, brandishing a vaguely microphone-shaped object, her mother chasing after her, reaching for her wildly with her unoccupied hand.

“Jesse, _no!”_ Amanda’s eyes were wild as she blushed, snatching the “microphone” from her daughter’s hands and swiftly hiding it behind her back. “That’s _private_ , Jess!”

The laugh that escaped Olivia was stifled quickly by a hand over her mouth, her eyes twinkling up at Amanda, giving her a knowing look.

“Don’t touch things that aren’t yours, honey.” Amanda sighed, heading back into the bedroom to put the offending object away.

Jesse turned to Olivia, crossing her arms with an exaggerated pout. “Mama’s no fun.”

Olivia pursed her lips and shrugged. “I dunno, Jesse, it seems like mama… makes her own fun.”

“Yeah,” Jesse agreed, “but she’s having secret karaoke parties without me! We always do sing-along time together.” She looked disappointed, her little shoulders slumping.

Amanda returned, having switched the baby to the opposite side. “Honey, I don’t have sing-along time without you. Now go to your room, please, mama needs to talk to miss Olivia.”

Jesse frowned, her eyes pleading with her mother. “Are you gonna play with miss Olivia?”

Olivia watched Amanda turn an even deeper shade of pink as she pursed her lips in embarrassment. “No, honey. We’re just gonna talk.”

The little girl’s eyes narrowed, adopting the suspicious look Olivia had often seen on her mother in interrogation. “Okay, mama,” she said, starting down the hallway.

“You weren’t supposed to see that,” Amanda said, unlatching Billie and starting to burp her. “I can’t believe I have to put a lock on my bedside table,” she sighed, eyes closing in exasperation. “And I thought babyproofing was difficult. Kid proofing is going to be way worse.”

Olivia smirked, shrugging. “They get into everything; that’s life. Noah’s never gotten too curious, but I’ve always been cautious. I found a good lock for mine on Amazon, if you want the link.”

“ _Please_ ,” Amanda groaned, leaning down to put Billie on a blanket with her toys. “I can’t let her get into that drawer ever again.” She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, sitting back on her heels for a moment. “I’m just glad it was you and not show-and-tell at preschool or something.

They both giggled, exchanging smiles before the room grew quiet. Olivia decided to break the silence. “So, magic wand, huh?” Her roguish grin flashed as she teased her colleague. “I didn’t think that was your kind of thing.”

“ _Olivia_.” Amanda’s eyes widened as she nudged her, glancing down the hall toward Jesse’s room, ensuring there weren’t any little ears around before she sat down on the couch, her knee bumping up against Olivia’s.

“Do you… like yours? I’ve never had one quite like that.” Olivia raised an eyebrow, looking her detective up and down. She knew that Amanda had been around the proverbial block, but squad room gossip was a world away from legitimately personal details like this.

Amanda rolled her eyes. “It gets the job done quick enough... Kinda noisy though, you gotta be real careful with it. I’m surprised Jess didn’t figure out how it worked,” she sighed, shaking her head, “she’s getting too smart.”

“Gets that from her mama, I think.” Olivia settled back on the couch, draping her arms across the back and crossing her legs, discreetly appreciating the low cut of Amanda’s blouse.

“So you’re… in the market?” Amanda was still paranoid, periodically looking down the hall, keeping an eye out for her daughter. “For… a, um… Taylor Swift microphone?” She smirked at the euphemism, rolling her eyes.

“It can get intimidating.” Olivia picked up her glass of apple juice, observing it for a moment. “We should… compare notes sometime. No professional talk; just one mom to another.” There was a mischievous twinkle in her eyes as she spoke, catching Amanda off guard and raising her cup in a mock-toast.

Amanda stifled a laugh, bringing her cup to Olivia’s with a smile and taking a sip of the juice. “Maybe we should,” she said, nodding, “sometime.”


	2. Chapter 2

This sleepover had been anticipated for weeks—the kids were thrilled to spend the evening together with plans of movies, games, and pizza. Noah and Olivia arrived late in the afternoon and the night’s festivities commenced. “We already called ahead for pizza,” Amanda said, holding an excited Frannie back at the door, “hope y’all don’t mind pepperoni.”

The pizza finally arrived, and they gathered around the kitchen table. The kids tore into the pizza with gusto and Olivia headed to the kitchen, calling, “Slow down, Noah, manners,” as she hurried back with some plates.

As the kids ate, Olivia sat down beside Amanda, sliding a small, red box furtively under the table toward the blonde. “I know it says seven and older, but…” Olivia’s eyes flicked to Jesse who was nibbling on her pizza, “I think she’s pretty precocious.”

Amanda took the box in her hands, her brows knitting together as she read the game’s title aloud. “Exploding Kittens?” she murmured, looking up at Olivia and raising an eyebrow in curiosity.

“It’s Noah’s new favorite game; he’s probably going to mention it sometime tonight.” Olivia shrugged. “If he knew I had it on me, he’d insist on a round right now. I don’t think Jesse would have much trouble.”

“She gets go fish alright. I’ll help her out; she’ll be fine.” Amanda smiled and nodded before she sat beside her daughter. “Jess, honey, you wanna play a card game later with Noah and Miss Olivia and mama?”

Jesse perked up, a big smile lighting up her sauce-stained face. “Uh-huh, Mama!”

After hours of movies, games, and a quick break for pajamas, they had come to their final round. “This is the last one, okay? Lights out after this.” Amanda shuffled the cards in the deck, dealing them out quickly between herself, Olivia, Noah, and Jesse. “Remember the rules. Don’t explode.” The kids giggled, situating their cards in their hands. “Okay, Liv… you wanna go first?”

The hand concluded shortly after with Jesse emerging victorious, jumping up from her chair into a celebratory dance. “I didn’t get a ‘splodin’ kitten!”

“Good job, Jess,” Amanda said, chuckling at her daughter’s victory dance, “But now it’s bedtime.”

Noah and Jesse sighed, both of their faces turning into pouts. “Do we _have_ to go to sleep?” Noah asked, turning to Olivia, trying his best puppy dog eyes.

“Pretty please, Mama?” Jesse adopted the same expression, batting her lashes at her mother for effect.

“I know it’s a sleepover, but we stayed up pretty late already.” Amanda took Jesse’s hand, leading her to the sleeping bag in her room—she had insisted on the sleeping bag in lieu of sleeping in her own bed.

“You heard her; it’s that time,” Olivia said, standing from the table, “Now go brush your teeth and get ready for bed, okay?”

“Okay, Mom,” Noah sighed, shuffling off into the bathroom.

“Can Noah and me have a bedtime story?” Jesse asked, settling into her unicorn sleeping bag with a yawn.

“It’s Noah _and I,_ and that depends.” Amanda looked up as Olivia tucked Noah into his sleeping bag as well. “You want a story too?”

“Do you like any princess books?” Jesse asked. “Or fairy books?”

“How about we let Noah pick, Jess,” Amanda said, settling Jesse back down in her sleeping bag. “You got to pick the movie, remember?”

“Oh! Oh!” Noah sat up again, bouncing in his spot, “Do you have the same one that Uncle Rafa got us? With the mermaids?”

“I think so,” Amanda said, leaning over toward Olivia. “It should be on the shelf by you, Liv.”

Olivia looked over the bookshelf for a moment, then smiled and nodded. “That’s the one,” she said, pulling it from the shelf and cracking it open. “Okay, _Juli_ _án is a Mermaid_ …”

Something in Olivia came alive while she read, telling the story of Julián and his wish to be a mermaid. Amanda couldn’t help but smile—this woman contained multitudes. Hours ago, she was playing hardball with a suspect in an interrogation, but now, here she was, reading and turning the book around, showing Jesse and Noah the pictures like a school librarian. Amanda only heard Olivia speak like this in bits and pieces, usually to victims during questioning. The tenderness in Olivia’s voice shone through, and Amanda’s heart melted, watching as Jesse and Noah slowly began to slip into sleep.

Once both kids were sound asleep, Olivia turned off the light, leaving the nightlight on in the corner of the room. They both worked in tandem, cleaning up the remnants of pizza and popcorn from the living room and kitchen, attempting to be as quiet as possible. It almost seemed rehearsed, but it was simply the routine of motherhood. They both knew one another’s homes well enough—the dishes went in one cabinet; the popcorn bowl was kept in another cupboard. “It’s… still early,” said Amanda, glancing at her watch, “you want some wine?”

“Yes, _please,”_ Olivia accepted, feeling herself loosen up almost instantly.

“I know you brought a Cab,” Amanda said, looking around the kitchen, “but there’s pink Moscato in the fridge.”

“Oh, pink Moscato?” Olivia came into the kitchen, leaning on the counter as Amanda produced the bottle from the fridge with a grin. “Trying to get me drunk, are we?”

Amanda scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Please; if I was trying to do that, I’d be offering you whiskey.”

The conversation flowed along the wine in their glasses, working their way through the bottle together with ease. The subject wandered between kids and work before settling on old boyfriends.

“And _that’s_ when I had to tell him to just _stop,_ cause I was bored outta my brains,” Amanda giggled, shaking her head, her ponytail bobbing back and forth with the effort. “Like… at least try a _little,_ right?”

Olivia stifled another laugh, pursing her lips into a grin. “Let’s take these to your room,” she said, finishing her glass, “I’d hate to wake Frannie or the kids…”

Amanda blinked, raising an eyebrow. “I mean, Fran’s… in her bed. We could just stay on the couch…”

“C’mon, we can talk more freely in there.” Olivia rose to her feet, lifting the bottle from the table and wandering into Amanda’s bedroom. “A-man-da,” she called softly, her voice sing-song, “hurry up.”

Amanda blinked again, slower this time, looking around the room. Fair enough. She followed after, throwing back the rest of her glass. “I’m here; I’m here. Keep your shirt on, geez.”

“Who said anything about me taking off my clothes?” Olivia was reclining on Amanda’s bed, filling her glass again. “You want another?”

Amanda held out her glass for a refill, blushing. “I mean, it’s—it’s an expression—“

“I’m just messing with you, Rollins.” Olivia took a long drink, placing her glass on the bedside table before pouring a glass for Amanda. “No need to get all hot and bothered.”

“I—I’m not _bothered,”_ Amanda said, her tongue tripping over her words as she felt her cheeks grow hotter, silently blaming the blush on the wine. _“You’re_ bothered.”

“You’re drunk at ten on a Friday night.” Olivia gave Amanda a pointed look, nodding in her direction.

_“We’re_ drunk at ten on a Friday night,” Amanda countered, sitting beside Olivia.

Olivia nodded, grinning. “A little. You know, I like your hair like that.” She reached over to run a hand through Amanda’s ponytail, twirling a lock of wavy hair in her fingers.

Olivia pulled away, her fingers lightly brushing Amanda’s neck, and Amanda giggled, shrinking away from the touch. “That tickles!” she squeaked, rubbing her neck with her free hand. “Sorry, it’s—sensitive, I guess.”

A blush rose to Olivia’s cheeks, lowering her gaze in embarrassment. “I—no, it was me—“

“You have… nothing to apologize for.” Amanda swayed back toward Olivia, a slight smile on her lips. She shifted on the bed, finding herself closer to Olivia, now hyper-aware of the warmth that seemed to radiate from the other woman’s body. “Wow, this moscato’s…” Amanda trailed off, nodding as she did so. “It’s, um, sitting.”

Olivia turned. “You good, Rollins?”

“Yeah,” Amanda replied, blinking herself back to clarity. “Just, uh, ‘m sorry; lemme grab a blanket for the couch…” She stood, wobbling over to a chair in the corner piled high with blankets.

“Wait, wait. I don’t want to evict you from your own bed.” Olivia sat up, frowning. “Amanda, seriously. Don’t worry about it.”

“You’re sure?” Amanda stifled a yawn, her head cocking to one side.

“I get cold anyway.” Olivia shrugged, leaving her glass on a bedside table as she pulled back the sheets. “Do you want me to get the light?”

“Uh, sure,” Amanda said, shuffling back to bed and climbing in on her usual side in the dark. The city lights that leaked in through the window illuminated Olivia’s silhouette in an amber glow, and Amanda’s eyes drank it in slowly under the cover of darkness, appreciating the gentle curves in Olivia’s face before squeezing her eyes shut, hoping to etch the image in her mind before she succumbed to her wine-induced sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this became a multi-chaptered endeavor! I hope you enjoyed it; there's more to come. -Ax


	3. Chapter 3

“Lucy’s the real hero, not us,” Amanda laughed, her breath fogging up as they walked down the street. “I swear this bar is good; it doesn’t close for at least another hour…”

“Moms’ night out,” Olivia proclaimed with a grin. “We can be wild and stay up past ten.”

“Right,” Amanda giggled, “and not have to worry if anyone will wake us up crying about a nightmare…”

Olivia opened the door, and Amanda nodded, “Thanks, Cap.” The place was cozy enough with one main bar in the center of the room and some tables positioned around the perimeter. There were darts and pool tables tucked in a back corner, and music was piped in through a speaker system that was barely audible above the dull roar of the crowd.

They found their way to the center bar, making their way past the throngs of people to situate themselves on the quieter side of the room. They were perched on two barstools as they watched the bartender on the other end, waiting for his return to order their drinks.

“So, what are you getting?” Olivia asked, turning toward Amanda. The buzzing of the room likely drowned out anything below a shout.

Amanda’s brows came together and she frowned. “Say it again?” she said, over-enunciating her words and leaning in, bringing her ear closer to Olivia’s lips.

Amanda was closer; almost too close—the smell of her was suddenly more apparent as it filled Olivia’s head, catching her off guard. It was usually very subtle, a bit of tangy citrus and a light floral that Olivia found both feminine and sophisticated—two words she would not typically describe Amanda with. This lighter, fruitier scent was what Olivia was used to in their distant, professional context, but now Amanda was inches away with the heart of the perfume revealing itself.

Now, a softer scent of fruit—possibly peaches—tickled at Olivia’s nose alongside a headier fragrance of flowers as she breathed deeper, finding hints of spice in the base of the bouquet. A shiver ran down her spine as she exhaled, breathing in again and drinking in the scent. It was sweet, but not in a tooth-rotting, artificial, saccharine way; it was fresh and tantalizing, almost mouthwatering—it was the smell of a ripe peach in the moment before teeth break its flesh, giving way to the nectar within. Olivia wanted nothing more than to take a bite for herself, to feel the slow, sticky rush of juices down her chin—

“Uh, Liv?” Amanda nudged Olivia and looked back toward the bar, her voice slightly audible. “What do you wanna drink?”

“Um, a scotch,” Olivia choked out, swallowing hard as her hand moved to the back of her neck in an attempt to ground herself. This effort became more futile as Amanda shed her coat—her black blouse was decidedly more revealing than her typical work attire; it was sheer to the point of near-transparency, showcasing the lingerie she wore underneath. “I didn’t realize we came here to pick up dates,” Olivia joked, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m not,” Amanda chirped back with a shrug, taking her drink from the bar. “But don’t let me rain on your parade, Liv.” Her lips closed around her straw, taking a couple gulps from the cup as she discreetly appreciated the low cut of Olivia’s blouse. “It’s pretty dive-y here, though, so you’re already way ahead of most of these girls.”

“You think so?” Olivia laughed, her gaze falling from Amanda’s sparkling eyes to the bottom of her own cup. “I can’t say I’ve got many prospects in here.”

“That’s not true,” Amanda retorted, leaning over the bar and catching the bartender’s attention for another order as she handed over her card. The only words Olivia could catch were “keep it open,” but that was only part of the exchange.

“Another round already?” Olivia asked, taking a sip of her scotch. “You’re taking this seriously.”

“No, no,” Amanda said, smirking. The bartender placed two little glasses on the bar and gave Amanda a nod. “Tequila shots. Here,” she said, offering one to Olivia.

“Amanda—” Olivia’s brows shot up as her eyes widened in shock, unable to stifle her laughter. “I’m a little old for tequila shots.”

“Olivia,” Amanda chided, “you are _not._ Now _please_ take this shot with me?” She looked up at Olivia with a hopeful smile as she slid the glass in her direction. _“C’mon,_ moms’ night out.”

Olivia sighed, half-glaring at Amanda. “Moms’ night out,” she said begrudgingly, grabbing the glass and rolling her eyes.

The shots were downed with relative ease and they settled back onto the bar stools, feeling the burning sensation in their throats. They both fell silent for a moment, sipping on their drinks to chase the shots.

“You any good at pool?” Amanda piped up, nodding toward the two tables in the corner just beyond the other side of the bar. One was unoccupied, but the other was surrounded by a group currently embroiled in a game.

Olivia watched as the colorful balls zipped around the table, seemingly shot with ease into the side pockets with dull clicks. Her nose wrinkled, and she took another drink of her scotch. “Not exactly,” she replied.

“I’ll teach you, then,” Amanda said, finishing her drink and walking over to the unoccupied table, garnering less-than-conspicuous stares from various bar patrons around the room. She was already slotting quarters into the table before Olivia caught up. Amanda grabbed a cue from the wall and handed it to Olivia. “Here, hold this,” she said, racking up the balls with careful precision before lifting the plastic triangle from its place. The cue ball sat at the opposite end, and Amanda motioned for Olivia to move to that side. “I’m gonna teach you how to break,” she said, taking the cue, “watch me.” She leaned over the table, turning over her shoulder to look at Olivia. “Are you right or left handed?”

“Right,” Olivia replied, attempting to focus on Amanda’s hands and not her well-displayed curves in her jeans, biting the inside of her lip in an attempt to refocus as the slightest of blushes rose to her cheeks, but she chalked it up to the liquor coursing through her system.

“So you use your left hand to guide it… and you line it up and then hit it.” Amanda motioned as she spoke, demonstrating the proper technique without actually taking the shot. “Now c’mere, you’re gonna try it.”

Olivia moved between Amanda and the table, taking the cue and lining it up like Amanda had done, and leaning over the table in a similar fashion. She attempted the shot, missing the ball slightly and laughing at herself. “Just a warm-up,” she said, looking back at Amanda, who suddenly stiffened.

Amanda blushed as Olivia turned, hoping that her Captain hadn’t caught her staring. She was supposed to be evaluating Olivia’s form, but she’d been enjoying the view instead. “Let me, uh, show you, Liv,” Amanda said as she stood behind Olivia. “Your left hand is fine,” she said, reaching to cover Olivia’s left hand with her own, “but your right is too far up and out.” Amanda’s body was flush against Olivia’s back as she reached around to bring Olivia’s right hand to sit at hip level, holding her firmly. “This gives you more power,” she said, her lips now beside Olivia’s ear. Amanda was grateful that Olivia couldn’t see her growing smile as she gently corrected her positioning; the tingle running down her spine from this moment of full control over Olivia’s body was far more intoxicating than any liquor she’d swallow tonight.

Olivia was swimming in the scent of peaches and flowers again as Amanda’s hands guided her into place, barely hearing what Amanda was saying as she stared down the cue ball, trying to focus on anything but her heart hammering in her chest. Every inch of her in contact with the blonde grew more tense and rigid by the second with anxiety; she couldn’t possibly let on that she was enjoying this. Olivia was acutely aware of Amanda’s hips driving slightly into her own and wished that it was the opposite, blushing in spite of herself for having such a thought, let alone that she was thinking it about a detective under her command. It felt good to be this close to someone, but with Amanda, it was frightening. Olivia was her superior officer; this was hardly appropriate. Her mood suddenly darkened as the guilt settled into the pit of her stomach. The cue shifted, and the resounding clack of the balls brought Olivia back down to earth again.

“See, it wasn’t that hard,” Amanda said, one hand on Olivia’s shoulder as she straightened up. “You’re a quick learner.”

Olivia shrugged out of the touch, feeling her jaw set. “Uh, right,” she said, her tone clipped. “Here,” she said, passing the cue to Amanda before going back to the bar for another drink.

Olivia returned after downing another glass of bourbon for courage, hoping to shake off any of the negative energy in the walk back to Amanda’s side. “Shoot, Liv, gimme a minute to keep up, will you?” Amanda laughed, holding the cue in her direction with a grin. “I’m stripes, you’re solids.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hi Rolivia friends! This is my first attempt at this ship; also, I'm really behind in canon, so I apologize for any inconsistencies. This was just a fun, flirty piece I wrote after falling down a Rolivia hole last night on this site. I hope you enjoyed it! -Ax


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